madadhallaidh
by Tanela
Summary: Ottawa has a Gangrel prince? Vampires and werewolves don't get along, so this is kind of pushing it, but I wrote it for friends of mine.


centermadadh-allaidh/center  
  
Author's note: I removed the Sari-Kedi poem because it wasn't mine and I don't know who to give credit to for it.  
  
The two women watched each other intently across the table over the brims of their identical styrofoam cups. The soft brown ambience and dim lighting of the café enveloped them in warm cave-like shadows. The women's dark clothing and neat appearance matched the classy clientèle and the soft jazz music that quietly whispered around them, but a tension in their eyes set them apart from the others.  
  
Finally, one woman set down her coffee. Her elegant many-ringed fingers reached for the stir stick resting on a napkin on the table. She broke her stare from the other woman, looking into her drink as she stirred it languidly. "What are these rumours I've heard about the Lupines?" she asked in a low, sultry tone.  
  
The other chuckled and let her stare drop similarly as she set her own cup--strong cider with extra cinnamon--down on the table. She leaned her chair back on two legs and clasped her hands behind her head, lifting her thick copper hair off her neck. "Nothing you need to worry about. The situation's under my complete control. If that's what you came here to talk about, you're wasting your time. Thanks for your concern." This last comment dripped with sarcasm.  
  
The first woman was dressed all in black, a long coat, an even longer dress, combat boots, pale complexion with just enough eye make-up to look ready for a night out, dark chestnut hair pulled neatly back with combs, several silver rings, some imbedded with deep blood-red jewels. She frowned, looking up from her coffee. "This isn't a joke. The wolves are dangerous. Give them an inch, they'll take the mile and obliterate you while they're at it."  
  
The other sat up straight in her chair, arms folded across her chest. She was wearing simple black slacks, a low-necked forest green sweater and black combat boots, similarly pale face with slate grey eyes outlined and shadowed in dark brown and a touch of green, long autumn-red hair flowing free about her face and shoulders in soft curls, her only jewellry a stylized wolf's head on a silver chain around her neck. She leaned menacingly towards the other. "Are you insinuating weakness, Tamara?" she spat.  
  
Tamara shielded her coffee and cooly regarded her company. "And if I am, what are you going to do about it, Danielle?" The glare they'd shared when they first sat at the table returned with even greater intensity. "We've never been able to control Lupines before, and if any of us could, it certainly wouldn't be you," Tamara said calmly before taking a slow sip of her coffee.  
  
Danielle's lips twisted into a smirk. "Who said I was controlling them?"  
  
"You did, just a couple of seconds ago," the other woman   
  
replied exasperatedly.  
  
"No. I said I had the situation under control. I never said anything about controlling the Garou."  
  
Tamara cursed under her breath, shaking her head before taking another sip of coffee. "You can't get mixed up with them, Danielle. You're breaking the Masquerade itself by revealing yourself to them, and that alone will get you hunted down very quickly."  
  
"I didn't reveal myself. You and I and every Kindred who still has a brain knows that there is no revelation with the Garou. They know we're not human. They know we're dead. They know what we are. I'm not breaking the Masquerade. If anything, I'm supporting it."  
  
"You're going to get yourself killed, either by the Lupines themselves or by Kindred who think you're supporting the wolves."  
  
"Like you?" Danielle asked with an eyebrow raised, voice challenging.  
  
Tamara sighed.  
  
"Look," Danielle said, pushing her drink to one side and placing her right hand palm down on the table. Her short pink nails grew, lengthened, hardened, whitened, sinews in her fingers expanding and stretching as she clicked her claws rhythmically. "You may be older than me, but I know what I'm doing. If you wanted me killed, you should've done it a long time ago. I'm no fool. My people trust me, and just because you're worried about your own safety doesn't mean you can come up here and tell me what to do. Go home, Tamara. The Ottawa Kindred don't need you, and I certainly don't need you."  
  
Tamara placed a ringed fist over Danielle's claws, holding them still with little effort. Danielle did not react. "You can't just go around doing whatever you please. You have responsibilities. I'm going to make sure you keep them, or I'll report you as renegade."  
  
"I have no intention of neglecting any of my responsibilities. And who's going to believe I'm a renegade anyway? People here know me and trust me. Keep your grudges to yourself and go home." Danielle relaxed her palm and her claws shrank back to neatly manicured fingers. Tamara removed her fist.  
  
"I'm watching you," Tamara warned.  
  
"Good. Do that. Maybe you'll learn something."  
  
"Anyone who trusts you is a fool."  
  
Danielle snapped her fingers. A dark-haired man, not very tall, brilliant orange t-shirt almost glowing at the collar of his black coat, stood up and approached the women from where he had been sitting next to a casually dressed man in a grey jacket and blue jeans. Both of them had been sipping drinks in silence. Tamara smiled in recognition and the approaching man nodded and returned her smile as he came to stand at Danielle's side.  
  
"What do you think, Andrew? Are you a fool?" Danielle asked, without turning to look at him or otherwise acknowledge his presence.  
  
"This is a trick question."  
  
"Yes, it is," Danielle confirmed.  
  
Andrew hesitated, attempting to gauge a conversation which he had not had the ability to listen in on. "No, I don't believe I am," he finally answered.  
  
Danielle smirked again at Tamara. "Then it's settled. You're wrong. Now you can go home and know that I have everything in hand and that whatever you're worrying about is groundless."  
  
"What did you do to him?" Tamara asked, scowling.  
  
Danielle laughed. "That's for me to know and you to lose sleep over."  
  
"It's unnatural," Tamara muttered. "Gangrel do not control   
  
Tremere. Ever. Especially Elders."  
  
"Gangrel also never control cities. And Kindred do not control Garou. So I'm not your ordinary vampire. Andrew can attest to that. What I lack in years I make up for in blood. And intelligence. You have no power over me, literal or mental. So, Toreador," Danielle hissed the label vehemently, "go home."  
  
Tamara shook her head, scanning Andrew's face for some sort of denial, but he didn't seem in any way disturbed. "All right, then," she said, turning to Danielle. "You don't even know what a city is, this paltry collection of buildings and politicians. You don't know what power is. Get yourself killed. I'll be there to step in the minute you stumble."  
  
She stood up, taking her coffee. She patted Andrew's shoulder as she passed him by, shaking her head sadly. She called to the casually dressed man Andrew had been sitting with earlier. "Come on, Mab. We're going home."  
  
"What? But you promised I could--?"  
  
Tamara held a steady finger to her lips and Mab stopped mid-sentence. He followed her out into the night, pouting but offering no further protests. Danielle finished off her drink as she watched them leave.  
  
"What was that all about?" Andrew asked from where he stood beside her.  
  
"The usual. 'What are you doing? Are you crazy? You're going to get yourself killed. Please do, so I can take back this crummy little village of yours,'" Danielle explained, mimicking a pompously accented whine Tamara had never actually exhibited.  
  
Andrew chuckled. "You'd think someone who's been around as long as she has would have some advice worth listening to."  
  
"You'd think. How many times am I gonna have to tell her to go back to Toronto and stay there? She has no business here." She sighed heavily. "The poet-prey better have something of their own worth listening to tonight. If they can't change my mood I'm afraid one of them might not see tomorrow. I may have to drop by New York this weekend, just to get away from the baggage Tamara leaves here every time she visits."  
  
"Of course," Andrew said, grinning. He hesitated a moment before speaking up again. "I'll be going then. I have some important things to work on. If you need me, you know how to find me."  
  
Danielle nodded and waved him away with one hand, turning her attention to the girl approaching the microphone in the far corner of the café. As the poetess began her recitation, the vampire's copper hair fell over her face as she lowered her head slowly down to the table until it rested against her forearm. Under the table, she clutched her wolf necklace in her other fist tightly enough for her nails to bite into her palm, leaving a row of sharp crescent-moon indentations.   
  
"Sari Kedi, a ballad, recorded in the Balkans," the girl at the mic began.  
  
Danielle smiled into the shadows of the crook of her elbow. The poetry readers would live through another night.  
  
===  
  
The fire blazed, illuminating the dozen or so faces of the men and women sitting on the ground around it, all of them barefoot, wrapped in blankets and ponchos, with the exception of one who also happened to have red hair, clothes that didn't look like they could keep out the cold of night and combat boots.  
  
"So, what's the news?" a woman with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair asked, breaking into the crackling quiet.  
  
Danielle smirked from her place at the fire. She pushed her legs out behind her and resettled herself, lying on her stomach in the dirt, holding her chin propped up by her elbows.  
  
"Yeah, news," a young man encouraged, punching the vampire's shoulder half-heartedly.  
  
Danielle smirked. She grew her claws and swatted at him before deigning to speak. "Tamara came by again."  
  
The woman threw up her hands in exasperation. "What is her problem?"  
  
"Doesn't trust me, I guess."  
  
"It's a wonder any of you bloodsuckers trust each other. How do you survive?"   
  
The other people at the fire remained silent, stares switching from one woman to the other as they spoke.  
  
Danielle shrugged. "We've always found ways, usually power, control, fear. Keep us cooperating, with or without trust."  
  
"Told her off, then, didya?" the young man at her side asked, punching her again.  
  
A low growl rumbled in the back of the vampire's throat and her grey-eyes flashed irritation. The other people at the fire glanced at each other with uncertainty. "Don't make me actually hurt you, Rob," she said, flicking a pebble into the fire and scowling at him. "I haven't eaten in too long and I'm not in a good mood. I told Tamara the same thing I always tell her: piss off and go home."  
  
Rob blinked at her, obviously unused to the harsh reaction he'd received. He carefully sidled a few inches away.  
  
"Sorry, Kat," Danielle continued, addressing the blonde woman. "The Tamara situation is dealt with as far as I know. She was seen leaving the city, so unless she's become decidedly sneakier in the past few months, she's good and gone. For now. What about you guys? Any news from this end?"  
  
Kat lowered her head and swallowed. When she looked up, she scanned the faces of her companions, who all avoided her gaze. "We--we think you may have some problems with the, um..." She coughed. "The Sabbat."  
  
Danielle frowned. She slowly covered her face with her hands for a few moments. Then, balling her hands into fists, she brought them to the ground with enough force to send dust clouds up from the hard earth. "Shit!" Her face twisted into an angry grimace. "If there's one thing I don't need right now it's the Sabbat. I mean, I was just getting you guys into the structure and finally strengthening my support base in this town and then--damnit!" She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "All right. How the hell did you find out? And why the hell didn't I find out before you lot, for cripes' sake?"   
  
"Ritual they held out here, on our land," Kat explained. "We knew you'd never do something so ridiculous without informing us in some way, so we checked it out."  
  
"You're sure it's the Sabbat? If I thought it would do any good, I'd pray that you're wrong."  
  
"We know a thing or two about the Kindred. Granted, maybe not as much as yourselves, but-- Besides, Sabbat have always been a problem this far north. The Camarilla rules tend to be a bit more lax, as your own existence and continued survival proves. The Sabbat aren't stupid enough to confront us directly, but they do manage to continually piss us off."  
  
Danielle pushed her hair off her face with more force than was necessary, leaving it sticking out wildly to one side. "Okay, okay. How urgent do you think the situation is? Like am I going to have to do some swift ass-kicking here? Or do I have time to call in reinforcements, maybe recruit a few not-too-intelligent vampire hunters? How many were there at this ritual?"  
  
Kat shrugged and motioned to a dark-haired woman sitting next to her. "Ask Jessie."  
  
Jessie sat up. She squirmed uncomfortably and hugged her knees. "I saw them, found them. Doing their--" She shuddered. "Whatever the hell it is creeps like that do. A lot of dancing and blood. There were only a few, maybe five or six, plus one really big guy with a huge-ass knife. I kept expecting them to set the trees on fire."  
  
Danielle nodded, acknowledging her words, then turned again to Kat. "You said you checked 'em out. Any idea how long they've been here?"  
  
Kat shrugged. "Can't be sure, but quite a while, probably since you came in from out west."  
  
"Shit. Then they're well-rooted, well-hidden. Shit shit shit. I don't need this. I really don't need this." Danielle sat up and scooched back away from the fire until she was sitting in grass, which she promptly began tearing out of the ground, roots and all, and depositing in a neat little pile in front of her. "Okay, okay, it's okay. They've been here a while and have not bothered us yet. The only reason we even know they're here is because of a freak accident." She kept tearing at the grass. "If we don't let them know we're on to them, maybe they'll stay quiet, not bother us."  
  
"You mean you're just going to let them alone?" Kat asked, her voice tinged with amazement and disapproval.  
  
"No, damnit. It's not the kind of thing any self-respecting Prince can stand for. Damn damn damn damn. But it means I've got time. Time to do what? To call for back-up?" Danielle's questions seemed to be directed at no one, as she addressed only the increasing pile of torn grass. "From where? Tamara sure as hell won't help and I don't want her help anyway. You guys'll help, of course. And my crew. And the other Kindred citizens. Camarilla-loyal or not, no one but Sabbat like Sabbat. Maybe Montreal? No. Still, I think we're gonna need outside help. Human help? No. I've got to-- I've got to talk to--" She stood up hurriedly, dusting herself off. "How could this have slipped by me?" she muttered. She finally looked back up at those gathered. They had all inched away from her as she ranted and now seemed crowded on the opposite side of the fire. "Sorry, guys. I've had a bad night so far and the fire's bothering me. I've got to scram or I'm gonna start peeling. I'll talk to--at least one of you--tomorrow. If you can give me a fuller report, I'd appreciate it. We'll get rid of this thing, this menace, together. When Tamara hears how you helped me out with this, she'll never live it down. I'll lord it over her for a long time." Danielle wrung her hands, grinning. "Yeah. Thanks. I'm out. Later." She fairly sprinted off into the woods.  
  
The others around the fire glanced at each other. "Vampires are insane," one of them whispered.  
  
Kat motioned to the sky above the clearing, "Dawn's not long from now. I bet they all get a little crazy with the sun on his way."  
  
Two of the people stretched and with a cracking of joints and a distressed, half-stifled yelp from one, their blankets dropped away and huge, long-legged wolves stood in their places. The others followed suit and wandered off into the trees, grumbling and yipping to each other, leaving Kat, Jessie and Rob to tend to the fire.  
  
"I don't trust her," Jessie said, frowning, as she poured a pail of sand over the fire.  
  
Rob knelt down and stirred the sand and coals with a stick. "She's not so bad. She understands us. She knows the moon. She leaves us alone, but offers help if we want it. There's a few of 'em, Kindred, like her, who aren't so bad, but I bet she's the only one with any real power," he offered.  
  
Jessie shrugged. "She's also certifiable."  
  
"You would be, too, if you had to deal with Kindred problems all day and drink blood to stay alive."  
  
"True, I guess. But that doesn't mean I have to trust her."  
  
"We don't have to trust her, but the Sabbat endanger all of us, not just Kindred," Kat interrupted.  
  
"Since when are you Miss All-for-the-Kindred?" Rob asked, chuckling, as he slipped his poncho over his head and changed forms.  
  
Kat swatted the resulting wolf on the nose as he clumsily tripped over his blankets while trying to free himself from their entanglement. "Since I'm the Alpha here and you have to listen to me. 'Sides, I kinda like her. She knows her stuff, and, damn right, she's powerful. And not just in some mystic juju way, but the real way, friends in high places or influence or something. She helps us, we'll help her."  
  
Jessie smiled and kicked some dirt at the wolf that had been Rob. He looked at her with exaggerated pain in his eyes before shaking vigorously enough to send dust billowing around the two women. As they fell to coughing, Rob promptly jogged off into the woods, tongue lolling from a toothy grin as though he'd had the last laugh.  
  
Kat shook her head, smiling, waving dust away from her face. "What'll I do with the lot of you? All right, Jessie, you move out, too. I'll clean up here." Jessie obediently changed forms in silence and padded out of the clearing.   
  
Kat piled the disarray blankets and ponchos up against a tree, adding her own to the small mountain. She shifted effortlessly into wolf-shape. Pausing next to the fire pit, she checked to make sure it was out, her senses being much more sensitive in lupine form. An abandoned campground made for handy firepits and meeting sites, but one could never be too careful. She checked the bases of the trees surrounding the site, making sure they were well-marked should any creature think of intruding. With everything in place, just as the sun was rising, Kat barked one loud, clear bell tone and loped off into the trees to join the others. 


End file.
